


Your Savior

by SkyRose



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1920s, 1930s, Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5304995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyRose/pseuds/SkyRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they weren't superheroes or soldiers, they were kids, and teens, and nobodies. Somehow, they always had each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Savior

**Author's Note:**

> Good lord, I don't know what this is. I started writing this earlier this month but wasn't sure I wanted to keep doing it and then the Civil War trailer came out and I'm an absolute mess. I just want Steve and Bucky to be happy and right now the only way that's seems to be easy is going back to when they were kids... So this. This was originally supposed to be 5k and it ended up being almost 9k... I hate myself. Just an FYI, I was the only one editing this so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. I don't know if I'll finish this or when the next chapter will come about but here's Pre-Serum Steve and Bucky nonsense.

**Chapter One: Dawn and Dusk**

◉◎◉◎◉

Steve Rogers was a short, skinny, pale boy. Every other month he was holed up in his bedroom because his body didn’t like to agree with him much. His mother — a widow, nurse, and lovely woman — worked night and day to keep his weak lungs breathing. Her job kept her busy most of the time, so Steve often spent his days in their neighbor’s apartment, Mrs. McGinnis. Her apartment was claustrophobic; filled to the brim with her late husband’s handmade furniture. Mrs. McGinnis was an Irish immigrant, just like Sarah Rogers, so she couldn’t afford a bigger place that could handle Mr. McGinnis’ works. Steve wasn’t awfully fond of his days spent with Mrs. McGinnis, but he trudged through them.

Little Steve never had any friends, mostly because Mrs. Rogers didn’t either. Mrs. McGinnis didn’t count, nor his mother. He didn’t know a single kid his age by name. He rarely went out, but when he did he always saw a group of boys a bit older then him running around and playing ball. Steve was a lonely boy. Mrs. Rogers hated the fact, so she jumped at the opportunity to send Steve to school when he finally grew old enough.

New confidence and naivety filled every one of Steve’s veins when he marched up to the schoolhouse. His mother managed to buy him a new outfit, head to toe. The shoes were loose and pants ripped, yet Steve loved it as if it were made of hundred dollar bills. He saw a huddle of girls pointing at a boy and a couple of boys kicking around ball. Steve tried to approach the boys, but they all glared at him. He decided it was best to go inside.

A loud bell rang and students all began to file in as well. Steve found the Kindergarten classroom easily, as it was the very first door and the teacher was shouting at the top of her lungs that it was Kindergarten classroom.

Steve sat front and center, eager for whatever the teacher was going to instruct. Mrs. Nance gave them a few moments to talk amongst each other before she began class. A pretty brunette girl sat on his right, a tall, dirt-smudged boy on his left. The boy was obnoxiously loud and already seemed to have a group of friends, so Steve introduced himself to the girl.

“Hiya, Steven Rogers,” the girl said politely. “I’m Rebecca Barnes.”

Steve liked Rebecca Barnes. She knew the answer to every question the teacher asked, even the tough math ones. She shared a piece of her chocolate chip cookie with him at lunch. She even said she liked the picture of the tree he drew during recess.

“When ya grow up are ya gonna be a artist?” Becca asked him as he drew a flower upon her request. Steve admitted he might like to. Once Steve was done with the drawing, he gifted it to Becca. She told him she was gonna make him a flower necklace in return. They began to ran around collecting dandelions, and that’s when they both made the grave mistakes.

“Get outta the way!” a boy shouted at Becca as he charged forward, carrying a football. He bumped into her roughly, sending her tumbling to the ground. Steve sprinted over to her. He asked if she was okay and she said she was fine but Steve didn’t believe her so he decided to go running after the boy.

“Hey! Hey you! You pushed her! Go say you’re sorry!” Steve yelled, wildly pointing at the boy. He slowed, turning around to face Steve with an amused grin.

“Oh yeah? Who’s says a runt like you gets ta boss me ‘round?” the boy replied, a few of his friends joining him in his stride towards Steve, who flinched. No one had ever spoke to him in such a rude tone before. It kinda hurt.

“You’re a real bully. Callin’ names and pushin’ a little lady,” Steve commented, standing his ground proudly. The boy grabs Steve by the shoulders and throws him to the ground.

“Ya mean little ladies,” he snickered, looking down at Steve.

“Leave him be!” Becca called, stomping her way over. “If you don’t I’ll go get my big brother.” The boy didn’t listen to Becca’s threat; he punched Steve right in the stomach. Steve groaned and Becca went running while calling something over and over. The boys laughed around him. Steve wanted to cry, so he clamped his eyes shut. No one had ever hit Steve before too.

“Now, I told ya boys I didn’t wanta see ya causin’ any trouble here,” a voice exclaimed confidently.

“Barnes…” someone breathed.

“I shoulda known you’d mess with my darlin’ sister.”

“Didn’t mean anythin’ by it. It was an accident.”

“What, roughin’ up her friend? Sure don’t look it.”

“Oh, whatever. C’mon boys, let’s go play cops and robbers.”

“See ya ‘round, Thomas.”

A snort came in reply.

Steve finally opened his eyes. He found a different boy looking down at him.

“Who’re you?” Steve questioned, still clutching his stomach.

“Your savior.” The boy grinned. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Rebecca’s brother?”

“Yup.”

Steve saw it. They both a clear blue eyes, wide grins, and dark chocolate hair. The differences came in height, Becca was roughly an inch taller than Steve, but James had a few more inches. In the years to come he’d find more likenesses and contrasts.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Steve said with a hesitant smile. James held out his hand, and Steve took. James huffed as he pulled Steve up, then put an arm around his shoulders and thanked him for looking out for his sis. The two went to Becca, who was making flower necklaces for all three of them. It was an eventful first day of school for Steve Rogers.

▣▢▣▢▣

James Barnes and Steve Rogers had been friends for eleven years. Bucky, a nickname James took because there were too many James's in Brooklyn he didn’t like, was a charming young man who had just gotten a job down at the harbor. Steve was still tiny, but he’d grown in many ways. For one, his artistic skills were great enough that he could get into an art school if he wanted. Or could afford it.

The two pals were best friends. They spent every free hour together. Bucky was constantly at the Rogers’ apartment, and Steve could be seen at the Barnes’ household whenever Bucky could drag him along. They had a comfortable closeness that puzzled a lot of folks, but neither of them minded much. Bucky would show up for dinner at Steve’s no matter what.

“Good evening, James,” Steve heard Sarah greet.

“Same to you, Ma’am,” Bucky replied, most likely with a courtesy nod.

“Steve’s in the kitchen,” she informed him with a knowing tone. Steve rolled his eyes from where he was standing in front of the stove.

“That’s what I thought,” Bucky said before he appeared in the doorway with a hand on his hip. “My, my. Smells good in here. You helping your mother?”

“Hello to you too.” Steve chuckled, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“He’s actually done this all by himself,” Sarah proudly explained. Bucky whistled in response. The joint appreciation made Steve blush.

Once the food was done, the all gathered at the cramped dining table shoved in the living room with the couch. Bucky kept the conversation lively. Steve was worn out, but he kept his eyes open. His mother and Bucky would chastise him if he showed any signs of exhaustion. The two were always on lookout for Steve feeling the slightest bit abnormal. It was bothersome at times, — _Buck, can’t a man take a nap without someone’s paws all over his forehead_  — but he knew their heart’s had kind intentions. He could grin and bare it.

As Bucky was reciting a wild tale one of the boys told him about their run in with someone from the mob, Sarah started coughing. It wasn’t a small, no big deal cough that Bucky had whenever he ate too fast. It was the kind of cough Steve had right before he fell so ill he was lying in bed for weeks hacking up gunk and sometimes blood.

Steve’s mother wasn’t sick often. She couldn’t be. Who’d pay the bills? Who’d keep the apartment clean? Who’d take care of Steve?

“Are you feeling well, Mrs. Rogers?” Bucky asked on impulse.

“I’m fine, James. It’s the city air,” Sarah answered, trying to act casual. Steve eyed her.

“Ma…” he said.

“Steve, it’s nothing,” his mother assured him.

“Go lay down for a bit in my bed, at least. For me,” Steve pleaded. She nodded, promising she would once she was done eating. The rest of the meal was rather quiet. Once they were done Bucky and Steve washed the dishes, like every night. Bucky kept throwing concerned glances his way. Steve ignored them.

Bucky handed Steve a glass of water. “’M not thirsty.”

“’S not for you. Go check on her.”

Steve padded his way to his bedroom — they only had one bedroom, his mother usually slept on the couch — and ignored the way his arms were shaking slightly. He always got worked up when his mother wasn’t feeling perfect. Bucky’s always called him a momma’s boy.

Sarah was peacefully resting on his tiny bed. Her feet hung off the end, his never did. Steve set the glass of water down next to her. He grabbed their extra quilt from atop his dresser and draped it over his mother. Bucky appeared in the doorway.

“Don’t make any noise,” Steve whispered.

“Why would I do such a thing?” Bucky whispered back, smirking.

“Go home. You’re folk’ll want you.”

“Walk with me?”

“Then I’ll have to walk back alone,” Steve reminded, knowing Bucky isn’t fond of such a situation.

“Right. Promise me not to be an ass to anyone bigger than you on the way back?” Bucky begged without much heart.

“I ain’t promising anything,” Steve stated with a tilted chin.

“’Course not. Let’s go,” Bucky chuckled, motioning for Steve to follow him.

Bucky didn’t live far from Steve. They ran to and from each other’s apartments a lot when they were younger. Steve knows the way the Barnes’ by heart. Sometimes he considered it a second home. He never said that aloud though.

Summer was about to turn to fall in Brooklyn. It was almost September, and Steve could feel it. The wind was more chilling, leaves were dark, and the kids playing on the streets seemed extra rowdy. Steve liked fall for its color, but he disliked for what it warned. Steve hated winter. Bucky did too.

They arrived at the Bucky’s apartment complex and walked up a few flights of stairs —  Steve hated stairs too. Bucky half-dragged him down the hall to his door. He pulled out a key from his pocket but didn’t get to unlock it before the door swung open.

“James Buchanan, you promised your mother you’d eat dinner here for once.”

“Hello Rebecca, you’re sounding more like ma every day.”

Becca rolled her eyes, then turned to face Steve. She and Steve were really close back in the day, but one thing led to another and they don’t see each other as much these days. It was also nice when they did run into each other. Rebecca was the only dame his age that liked him. “Good evening, Steve. Always a pleasure to see you here.” She smiled warmly, then switched her attention back to Bucky. “You could bring him over here with you if you two must be together at every given second.”

“Sis, please,” Bucky said in a low voice. “Invite our guest in.”

Steve and Bucky entered their apartment. Becca offered to take his coat, but Steve politely refused. He said he wouldn’t be staying long. The youngest of the Barnes family came running to Steve.

“Hiya Steve.”

“Hello Beverly.”

Beverly was ten. She reminded him of Bucky when he was the same age; bright-eyed, energetic, and _wild_. She had the same dark brown hair and blue eyes all the Barnes children had, except for Barbara.

“Evenin’ Stevie,” Barbara greeted, recalling a nickname only Bucky used. Barbara was fifteen. She had blue eyes, but her hair was a shade lighter than her siblings’, it was more like her mother’s.

“Same to you Barbara.”

Steve didn’t notice Bucky tug Becca into the kitchen where their mother was cleaning up. He was too busy listening to Beverly chatter on about her birthday, which was exactly twenty-eight days away. Steve made a mental note to get her something. Beverly left to grab a whole list she wrote of stuff she wanted when Steve asked for ideas. Before she returned, Mrs. Barnes entered the room. She was carrying a loaf of bread and a bundle of carrots.

“Hello Steve,” she said as she plopped the food into Steve’s arms.

“Hello Mrs. Barnes. What’s this?” Steve asked, readying himself to reject the charity. Sarah was always persistent about her disdain towards random “gifts” given by anyone, but especially the Barnes family. They were usually the ones trying. Steve picked up the same dislike towards it.

“A get-well gift for Sarah. I’m afraid we don’t have any flowers handy, but I’m sure this will do just fine. Sarah doesn’t like fancy presents anyways,” Mrs. Barnes rambled with a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Do tell her we all hope she gets back on her feet soon.”

“I will,” Steve promised with a smile. Mrs. Barnes kissed his cheek then returned to the kitchen. Bucky was standing in front of him again, with Rebecca. Both had a bittersweet look on their faces. “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Me?” Bucky questioned with fake innocence. He and Steve both knew who suggested the get-well gift for Sarah. He and Steve both knew Sarah would insist Steve eat most of it.

“Yes, you. We don’t need this.” _I don’t need this._

“Say all you want. It’s yours.”

Steve scoffed.

“You two best be headin’ out if you wanna get back before dark,” Becca advised and Bucky nodded in agreement.

“Wait, you’re walkin’ me back?” Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky. He was mildly offended.

“Nah, ’m sleeping over,” Bucky drawled. He planted a hand on Steve’s head and shook up his blond hair.

Beverly came walked in and quickly showed Steve her birthday list — which was full of extravagant things no one these days could afford — before giving him a goodbye hug. Steve waved to Barbara and Becca gave him a parting kiss on the cheek like her mother had, though this one left Steve’s cheeks flushed. Bucky bossed his sisters to leave the poor boy alone and then they were out the door and climbing down the endless stairs. Bucky, the true gentleman he is, carried the food. Steve only put up a small fuss.

It was an alright evening for Steve.

◉◎◉◎◉

Rebecca Barnes sat next to Steve in class every day. James Barnes played with him at recess every day, and sometimes Becca joined in. Steve became James's best pal in one quick week, but then came the weekend.

“You should come over to my place tonight. We could play all weekend!” James said as the two walked back to the schoolhouse after recess ended.

Steve was shocked by the offer. Never in his life had someone presented him with such a brilliant idea. He nodded immediately, not even considering what his mother might say. The thought that he’d be able to get out of his house for the whole weekend was grand. Unthinkable, but grand nonetheless. Surely his ma would agree.

“Great! I’ll have to ask my parents, you too. Me and Becca have mentioned ya to them already, they seemed to like ya. Say, my ma meets us here after school to walk us home, I could ask her then. If she says yes we could all go over to your place and ask your parents. I suppose your mom’d be home, right?” James rambled on, finishing with a question.

“No,” Steve answered.

“Your pa?”

Steve shook his head. Bucky tilted his.

“I stay with my neighbor till my mother gets home, Mrs. McGinnis,” Steve explained as James opened the door and held it open for him.

“Oh. When she get home?”

“Six, usually. Sometimes later.”

“What she do?”

“She’s a nurse.”

“Hmm. What’d about your dad?”

Steve flinched. He didn’t really want to tell the truth, but he couldn’t lie. “My dad’s dead.”

James halted, his eyes widened. He spun to face Steve. “Golly,” he breathed. “I sure am sorry, Steve.”

“It’s fine. It was before I was born. I never met ’im.” Steve shrugged, staring down at his scuffed up shoes. James put an arm on his shoulder and was silent for a few moments. No one was around. They were both late for class. James hugged him anyways.

Steve agreed to meet James when school was over to ask his ma, then they’d go over to Mrs. McGinnis’ to wait for Steve’s mom. The parted ways after James's fourth apology. Steve was a whole ten minutes late for class, though he didn’t really mind.

It was aggravating how slowly the time moved. Steve was used to watching a clock, — he did it every night waiting for his mom — but he swore the second half of class was three times the first. Becca helped the time speed by a bit whenever she thought of another thing they could do over the weekend. She was just as excited that Steve was coming over as he and James were.

When the final bell rang, Rebecca and Steve shot out of their desks and sprinted down to the exit. James's classroom was further away for the doors, so he came a whole ten seconds later. Mrs. Barnes was sat on a bench waiting for her children; she was surprised to see the little blond with them.

“You must be Steve Rogers,” she said, surveying the skinny boy in between her children. Mrs. Barnes was a very pretty lady. She had brown hair lighter than James and Becca’s, but had the same blue eyes. Her belly was very round, too.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Steve responded.

“Momma, can Steve come over and stay the night?” James asked. “Please.”

“Well…”

James, Rebecca, and Steve pleaded and begged. James even dropped to his knees and tugged at his mother’s dress. Steve would have laughed if he wasn’t too focused on chanting _please please please._

“Alright, but I suppose Steve has yet to ask his parents,” Mrs. Barnes inferred, staring down at the boy.

“No, I haven’t.”

James explained Steve’s mother worked late and he usually went over to his neighbors until she arrived home. He also said they could go over and wait till then.

“Nonsense. Steve can come over and wait in our apartment, if Mrs. McGinnis permits it,” Mrs. Barnes informed the bunch of kids. They all walked over to Mrs. McGinnis’, who said it was fine and she let Sarah know where Steve was if she got back before them. Once that was taken care of, they went to the Barnes’.

Steve nearly passed out on the climb up the stairs. James noticed his struggle and notified his ma, who rubbed Steve’s back and helped him the rest of the way up. His face was red the whole time, but he was grateful he didn’t have an asthma attack.

The Barnes family had an apartment easily twice as big as the Steve’s, maybe even thrice. They had a living room that didn’t also serve as a dining room — which was a separate room and had a huge table. They had three bedrooms; one for the parents, one for James and Becca, and a last for Barbara.

Barbara wasn’t home, she was over at a downstairs neighbors’ playing with their little girl. Becca informed Steve that she’s four and the cutest and bestest sister ever. Steve also learned that Mrs. Barnes was pregnant, meaning Barbara would have to share her room soon. Becca was hoping for another sister, but James wanted a brother.

“But if it is a girl, you can be my brother. You got that Steve?” James stated.

“Sure do.” Steve grinned so widely it hurt. He’d always wanted a brother.

Mrs. Barnes gave them each an apple to nibble on as Steve was shown around. He noticed he got the biggest one. Mrs. Barnes was a real kind lady, and Steve said so. She kissed him on the cheek.

Eventually, about ten minutes before six, they went back to Steve’s to talk to Steve’s mother. Sarah was walking up the stairs when they got there, and she was a bit shocked to see Steve with the Barnes’.

“My goodness, what do we have here?” Mrs. Rogers exclaimed, she made eye contact with Mrs. Barnes. “He wasn’t getting into any trouble, was he?”

Mrs. Barnes laughed. “No, no trouble here. Your son’s a very well-behaved boy. Heavens, I should introduce myself. I’m Winifred Barnes.” She went on to introduce James and Rebecca as well. Mrs. Rogers returned the gesture. The two chatted for a bit, then Winifred asked if Steve could stay over.

Sarah didn’t answer right away. Instead, she bit her lip, scanning her son up and down. “I… How have you been feeling, Steve?”

“Fine, momma. Why?”

“You won’t keep them up with your coughing, will you?”

Shucks. Steve hadn’t thought about that. His coughing got real bad this time of the year, spring too. He still had a few weeks though. The past couple of days had been cough-free. “No, momma.”

“If you feel the slightest bit sick you need to promise me you’ll let Mrs. Barnes know.”

“I promise I will.”

“Okay. You can go.”

Steve and James hollered with joy, Becca giggled at their outburst.

▣▢▣▢▣

“Buck, I ain’t takin’ any of your money.”

“You deserve this! You’re talented, Steve. I wouldn’t give you money willy-nilly.”

“Yes you would,” Steve pointed out with an eyebrow raised tauntingly.

“Take it.” Bucky inched the wad of cash closer to Steve on the dining table.

“No.”

“Take it.”

“ _No._ ”

“Steve,” Bucky stated. Steve glared at him.

“Bucky,” Steve mocked. Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically.

“ _Steve._ ”

“ _Bucky._ ”

“ _Enough._ You’ve been arguing for an hour straight. Just take the money, Steve,” Mrs. Rogers interrupted. Bucky pumped his fist victoriously and Steve’s shoulders sagged.

“But, ma—”

“Listen to you mother,” Bucky snickered.

“Oh, shut it,” Steve said. He reluctantly swiped the money of the table and stuffed it into his right pocket. Bucky’s smirk caused Steve to blush. “Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Steve stood, and so did Bucky. They tightly hugged. Steve said a hushed thank you. Bucky hummed in response, then decided it was fit to scoop his friend up and dump him onto the couch. The shocked face Steve had made Bucky laugh. The sound warmed Steve’s stomach. The feeling was cut short, Sarah started to cough.

Steve rushed to her side. She was sitting in a rickety rocking chair shoved in the corner of their living/dining room. His mother tried to wave him of, weakly saying she just alright. Steve suggested she lie down in his room and she agreed with an exhausted tone. She’d been doing that a lot lately.

Steve and Bucky helped her into the bed, tucking her warmly under three quilts. She politely requested some water, which Bucky ran to get. Steve went to the bathroom for a breather.

To say Steve was worried about his mother would be a major understatement. His arms shook as he washed his hands and his legs felt as though they were going give out. His intuition told him whatever his mother had was bad. He hoped it was wrong.

When Steve was finished in the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. The door was shut, which was odd. He gripped the door handle was went to turn it when he heard whispering. His mother and Bucky were whispering something.

Curiosity and worry struck Steve and he put an ear to the door.

“...think I’m gonna get over this, James. It’s gonna get a lot worse, too,” Sarah confessed.

“Don’t say that. You’ll be healthy again in no time,” James said, and Steve could tell he was lying.

“Either way, I won’t last much longer after. I… I need you to promise me something, James.”

“Anything, Ma’am.”

“Take care of Steve, once I’m gone. You’re all he has,” She began to sob.

“’Course I will,” Bucky croaked. “I already try.” Steve wanted to cry, so he went to the couch and did just that.

If Sarah Rogers thought she was going to die, she probably was. That broke Steve’s heart. She was all the family he had. She was all the family he’ll probably ever have.

Bucky found him crying, curled up in a ball with his shoulders heaving. He sat next to him on the couch. “You heard all that?” he figured. Steve just kept crying. Bucky patted his ankle, trying to comfort Steve.

“We’ve been friends for a real long time, Stevie,” Bucky said. The statement seemly had no purpose, but he continued. “And if… If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come to me. I… I care about ya, pal.”

Steve sat up. With tears streaming down his face, he looked his friend in the eye contact. “I know, Buck,” he bawled, trying to smile. He couldn’t. Instead, he shoved himself onto Bucky. His face smashed against Bucky’s broad chest. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and whispered things that Steve’s disaster-struck mind couldn’t process.

They fell asleep on the couch. When Steve awoke he was on top of Bucky, who was still sleeping soundly. He wondered if his mother saw them. He wondered what she’d say if she did.

◉◎◉◎◉

Steve had the most fun in ages with James. He showed Steve all sorts of neat games. They even went to a nearby park for a bit to kick around a ball. Steve liked being outside, but he never got to much. Of course, besides the short recess period at school. Although, that was still fairly new in Steve’s life.

Becca played along with them, whenever the game peaked her interest. Steve also met Barbara, who was indeed cute and very giggly. James said Barbara was too little to play with, so they didn’t. Barbara mostly sat in Mrs. Barnes’ lap and watched them.

When the wind picked up and Steve started to shiver, they headed back. James kept an arm around him, trying to keep his friend warm. Steve appreciated the gesture, but was somewhat embarrassed by it. No one else seemed quite as cold as him. He tried to shake James off. James retaliated by walking behind him with both arms around him and his chin resting in Steve’s hair. Steve didn’t bother trying to get him off that time.

They made back to the apartment — after another gruesome climb upward — and after some wrestling around,  found themselves lying on the living room floor. They were to sleep there. For whatever reason, Mrs. Barnes didn’t want them sharing James’s bed. Steve would have easily fit right along side him. Instead, they pulled James’s mattress out into the living room and pulled the couch cushions out to sleep on. Steve got the mattress, because James said it was more comfortable and Steve was the guest so he had to be in the comfiest spot. There was roughly two foot between them, well, originally. Steve’s been pretending not to notice James trying to inch the cushions closer.

James had told Steve he hated sleeping, and Steve agreed with him — sleep had close ties with sickness. They promised each other they were going to stay up all night, even though Mrs. Barnes warned them to get plenty of sleep. Apparently James had fallen asleep during Sunday mass more than once.

It was past midnight, or at least Steve thought it was. His eyes kept trying to close and James was yawning constantly. They had both made a point to sit up, fearing what might happen once they lie down. Now, Steve was fighting exhaustion. He gave up and laid down. Instantaneously, he started to cough.

James shot over to his side life a bullet — which wasn’t hard now that there was a half foot between them — and flashed him worried eyes. Steve sat back up, despite his body screaming not to. He knew the cough would settle if he was upright.

“Are you okay?” James questioned. Steve nodded, ignoring the burn in his lungs.

Amazingly, Steve hadn’t been loud enough to alert anyone. The silence took over the room again — James and him ran out of things to whisper about a while back. The only sound was Steve’s noisy, wheezy breath.

These kinda nights were never fun. They were the worst. Pillows shoved behind his back to make him sit up, gulping down water to clear the gunk out of his throat, and never-ending coughs that hurt. There was also the over-whelming want to _sleep. Please, oh God, please._ Steve just wanted to sleep. He didn’t want to cough any more.

Steve eyes barely kept themselves open. His lungs were failing home. Soon he’d… He can’t now. Not with James Barnes near and his mother blocks away.

“Y’know I think you should maybe sleep. It was a silly idea anyway. Lie down and sleep,” James coaxed, lightly pushing Steve down. It didn’t take much, Steve practically fell down by himself.

There was a few peaceful seconds of Steve with his eyes closed and his body preparing to rest while James stared at him worriedly. A painful, rattling cough swiftly broke the quiet.

It didn’t stop. Steve couldn’t stop. Even when he sat up again he was struggling to breathe. _No, no, no,_  Steve’s mind chanted. His tired body didn’t know what to do. He coughed and coughed. James was shouting and jumping and trying to ask Steve something but Steve couldn’t hear him. He didn’t care what James was saying.

Mrs. Barnes came rushing out of her bedroom. She scooped up Steve and looked him straight in the eyes. There were tears in her eyes. Steve had no other choice but to listen to her.

“Steve, what do you need? Please,” she pleaded with a shaky voice. Steve also heard loud sobbing. James was crying.

Sarah Rogers didn’t react like this when Steve had an asthma attack. She might’ve when he was a little babe, but not anymore. She knew what to do and knew how to keep her emotions stable. Seeing Mrs. Barnes and James freak out wildly didn’t help the situation, as it meant Steve had to be the calm one. Which was a difficult thing to do when he was barely getting enough oxygen to his brain.

He pointed to the window. Mrs. Barnes carried him over to it, set him back down, then opened it forcefully. Steve stuck his head out and desperately gasped in cool, fresh air. He motioned for someone to rub and pat his back. His mom did that to settle his nerves. She told him half of an asthma attack was just him getting worked up. He just needed to calm down both his mind and body. Mrs. Barnes cautiously rubbed his back.

Steve doesn’t know how long he stands there — his head stuck out a fifth floor window in the dead of the night with a grown woman he barely knows feeling up his pointy spine. The coughing stops, eventually, and Steve calms. When he pulls his head back inside and swings his body around Mrs. Barnes sighs. The exchange sleepy smiles. Steve thanks her and she kisses his cheek, telling him not to scare her like that again.

“Are you okay, Steve?” a hesitant voice asked. James sat on his mattress with his knees to his chest and his cheeks wet. Steve nods. James cracks a small smile and stands. The stride toward each other and exchange a hug — James doesn’t hug him very tightly, almost like he’s scared he’ll break Steve, who makes sure to hug him with all his might.

Somehow, they get back into their beds. Somehow, they fall asleep. Somehow, Steve has wonderful dreams. Although, they don’t seem to sleep long.

James must have awaken before Steve, because when he pokes his eyes open he finds James staring at seemingly nothing across the room. Steve rustled around in his million layers of blankets, alerting James he’s no longer resting. They exchanged good morning’s. James asked if he needed to stick his head out the window again; Steve didn’t and replied so. They began to chat dazed nonsense.

“What’s it like not havin’ any sisters? Or brothers I s’pose,” James questioned.

“Always wanted one,” Steve said, turning his head to look at James. He was staring up the ceiling, looking very focused.

“Yeah, but what’s it like?” he repeated, not satisfied with the answer Steve gave.

“Well, what’s it like havin’ one?”

Bucky took a deep breath, seemingly thinking of an answer. “Hmm. Sisters aren’t too bad. They can be annoying, and me and Becca fight a bunch. I try not to with Barbara, she’s too small. I have to watch ‘em a lot. Protect ‘em too. But they’re my friends. My momma says your family is the best friends you’ll ever have.” Bucky paused, then waited for Steve to answer his question from before.

Steve hoped Mrs. Barnes was wrong. He only had his ma.

“Not havin’ any brothers or sisters is… kinda boring. I mean, I’m sick a lot, so I wouldn’t get to play with ‘em much even if I had ‘em,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have any sisters,” James sighed and finally turned to face Steve, who didn’t really know what to say. “But I’m not sure what I’d do without ‘em.”

Steve hummed in agreement, although he could never really understand.

“I’m real worried about the baby,” James shyly admitted.

“Why’s that?”

“Dunno. Just am.”

“Oh.”

“When you’re older, and married, are you gonna have a baby?” James started picking at the loose threads on the blanket they were sharing.

“I reckon so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Steve tried to imagine an older James Barnes, with a pretty wife and a home and a baby. It seemed odd, but it could just because they’re little now. All grown-up things seem strange.

“You got any one you wanna marry?” James asked. Steve’s eyebrows flew up.

“No! Why, do you?”

James’s cheeks reddened, and he turned away from Steve all together. “No…”

“You do! Wait. You do?” Steve repeated.

“I mean… Stella Reid’s sorta… cute.”

Steve didn’t really know what to say. He hadn’t met anyone named Stella Reid. He also didn’t really find any girls cute and certainly hadn’t met any he’d wanted to marry. Maybe it’s just that James is older. When he’s seven he might find a girl he’ll wanna marry.

“You ever had a crush?” James was looking at Steve again.

“No,” Steve admitted. “Should I?”

“I dunno.”

James spontaneously changed the topic. He asked whether Steve had ever been to the candy store a few blocks from the school. Steve hadn’t, so James went on to explain the delightful chocolate and sour sweets his mother sometimes bought him on the way home from school.

Eventually, the rest of the Barnes family awoke. Mrs. Barnes firstly, she started to make pancakes, so James and Steve moved to the kitchen to watch. She also asked if Steve was feeling any better. He was. Then came Mr. Barnes. Steve had met Mr. Barnes just before he’d and James had been ordered to bed by Mrs. Barnes. Mr. Barnes was a burly man, his hair was dark and balding, and his face was more wrinkly than most of his age, just like his ma. James had said he worked a lot, went to work early and came back late. Mr. Barnes didn’t look much like James — or either or the girls — but his son did seem to have similar mannerisms to him.

“Darlin’, it’s Saturday! We don’t need such a feast till tomorrow,” Mr. Barnes said as he studied to food Mrs. Barnes was cooking up.

“Now, now, George. We have a little guest, one I plan to impress,” Mrs. Barnes replied, then winked at Steve. James elbowed him and they both laughed.

Barbara walked into the kitchen next. Her hair was tangled and eyes were still tired. Mr. Barnes scooped her up and planted a kiss on her nose. She giggled and said good morning to him. Once her feet were back on the ground she said the same to her mother.

Becca came in shortly after Barbara. She smiled brightly at Steve. The shine in her eyes made Steve’s face feel hot. It also made him think about what James said about crushes.

Mrs. Barnes worked quickly. She whipped up plenty stacks of pancakes and an infinite supply of bacon almost with a blink of an eye. Everyone sat around the table and prayed before digging in. It was delicious and warm.

Steve studied the Barnes closely as the ate. He had dinner with James, Becca, and Mrs. Barnes the night before, but now he could see them all together. He watched as James stole tiny bites from his sister’s plates, as Mrs. Barnes chastised Rebecca and James when they got into a shouting match, and as Barbara whined about wanting a certain sweet. It was a wild frenzy. Meals were not like that at Steve’s. They were sober and relaxed. There was less people and food. Steve realized what the this chaos was.

Chaos was family.

Steve also realized he didn’t have much of a family.

▣▢▣▢▣

Sarah was to weak to go to church on Sunday. She and Steve always went together. Bucky went along whenever he felt like coming, but even then half the times he sat with his family. His mother hated how little he went ever since he became an adult, but she couldn’t force him. Steve didn’t care whether Bucky went or not, but he did prefer when he had Bucky on his left softly reciting prayers he barely knew anymore.

Bucky was due to mass on this Sunday. He hadn’t been in the chapel for a whole two months — which was a new record. Steve saw him walk in with his family. Mrs. Barnes was brightly smiling, most likely because her only son decided to come along.

Steve and Mrs. Rogers usually sat towards the back. One more than one occasion Steve had started coughing or sneezing and needed to step out of the room. Being close to the door was convenient. The Barnes family sat more in the middle, or wherever they could fit.

Bucky made eye contact with Steve as he strolled past him. He frowned when he noticed Sarah’s absence. His head nodded, motioning for Steve to join his family. Steve shook his head. If he sat with them they’d invite him over for brunch and Steve would refuse and have to explain Mrs. Rogers wasn’t feeling well again. Steve didn’t want their pity or inevitable charity.

Bucky glared at him. Becca noticed his stare and also found Steve sitting alone. Her eyebrows drew together with worry. Steve watched her move her mouth close to Bucky’s ear and whisper something to him. Bucky nodded again, this time in agreement with her sister. He began to walk towards Steve as Rebecca said something to her mother.

Steve didn’t look at Bucky as he slid next to him. He picked at his fingernails, waiting for Bucky to speak.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, and Steve melted.

He’s been trying to not show how helpless he felt. It was exhausting. He was so pent up with mixed emotions at every given moment that he was always on the edge of exploding. It didn’t help that Bucky was being so _gentle and careful and equally worried._  They both were nervous about what was to come.

“Hi,” Steve replied weakly. His throat was burning and eyes felt watery. _God, Lord, Jesus Christ._ He was gonna break down right before Sunday mass.

Bucky stared at him, eyes wide and showing distress. Steve knew what he was thinking. _Not here, I’m sorry, not here, please, I’m sorry, Stevie._  Steve swallowed and rubbed his eyes. He’d be fine, for now. Bucky patted him on the back. He was fine.

Steve was grateful to have Bucky at his side that morning.

When mass ended Bucky dragged Steve to exchange some words with his family. He made it clear to them him and Steve would be going back the Steve’s; Steve was more than relieved by this. Mrs. Barnes wished Sarah a get-well-soon and Rebecca gave Steve a hug. Mr. Barnes shook his hand, too.

Bucky and Steve walked side by side through Brooklyn. Most of the trip was silent, which was something that happened regularly as of late. When they did speak, it was stupid and silly and everything they’ve ever been.

“Aw, look, Rogers! They got some art classes starting here soon,” Bucky said, pointing to a flyer stuck on the window of the community center. They both stopped to study it.

“I think it’s for kids, Barnes,” Steve responded, taking note of the bright colors and simple wording used on the poster.

“So it be at my level? We should both go, then. Be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t understand why you insist I sign up for classes.”

“Because you want to and never do anything you want to do! You’re easily good enough and any art school would be lucky to have you,” Bucky explained.

Steve still had the money Bucky gave him for art school stuck inside his sock drawer. He hadn’t touched it since he put it there. He’d been planning to use it for medicine that his mother might need. It’s not like Steve didn’t appreciate Bucky trying to encourage Steve’s childhood dreams, but it was very difficult to argue with. Steve knew how much of a dreamer Bucky was, and probably always will be. To be fair, Steve can be guilty of wild fantasies too.

Bucky thought very fondly of the future. He had a _things can only get better mentality_ that helped Steve through some admittible rough patches. The future meant shiny new things and money and some girl he called his wife to Bucky. Steve doesn’t really know where this kind of thought process came from — maybe Mrs. Barnes or maybe the simple fact that James Barnes is a _child_  — but it wasn’t what Steve was raised on. Sarah Rogers understood the future sometimes meant tragedy and a broken heart as she experienced it; Steve learned likewise. Steve knew that the future didn’t always turn out as one wanted it to, so it was alright that he didn’t get to go to the school of his dreams. These days, there were more important things to be disappointed about, or even mad.

◉◎◉◎◉

James often spent his afternoons at Mrs. McGinnis’ apartment playing with Steve. It was a surprise to Steve when James told him he wanted to come with him to Mrs. McGinnis’ while he waited for Mrs. Rogers. Mrs. Barnes didn’t mind, nor Mrs. McGinnis or Sarah. If anything, Steve was upset by it. He didn’t quite understand why James would want to spend his time after school in a dusty, cramped apartment. Steve thought James deserved something a bit more exciting. Although, that story’s for later.

With school and daily play dates, Steve learned a lot about James and vice versa.

Mrs. Barnes came to get James every day, usually after Mrs. Rogers arrived home. Sarah and Winifred often got a few moments to chat as the boys said goodbye for the day. Winifred complained about the baby sometimes, and Sarah always told her to get off her feet more. James had informed Steve the baby was due soon.

Steve and James both begged for a another sleepover daily. Sarah and Winifred exchanged knowing smiles when they did, promising they won’t have to wait long. Finally, it happened. It was a Friday night once more. It was just as exciting as the first, and Steve didn’t have an asthma attack this time. Barbara followed them around a lot and whined when they didn’t let her join in their games. Steve felt somewhat guilty about it, but James didn’t seem to mind.

Mr. Barnes was out of town for the weekend. Steve barely noticed his absence. James’s father was often quiet whenever Steve saw him; listening to the radio or reading a newspaper.

James and Steve slept on the living room floor again. They didn’t try to stay up to ungodly hours. Steve got a good’s night rest, although he did awake once after a mildly disturbing dream. It wasn’t too troubling. He fell right back asleep when he focused on James’s soft, even breathing next to him. That would become a common thing for him.

Saturday morning started normally. Mrs. Barnes made a slightly smaller breakfast — partly due to her husband being gone and partly due to her own fatigue. Steve enjoyed eating with James at his side laughing and Becca across from him grinning.

After they ate Mrs. Barnes told them to clean up the living room. Steve, James, and Rebecca worked together to tidy the place up. James was a strong young man, so he didn’t have much trouble hauling the mattress back to Becca and his room. Steve tried to carry the couch cushions and put them back in place, but it was a bit of a physical strain on him. James noticed and ordered he help Becca fold the extra blankets.

Once everything is orderly and neat, all hell broke loose.

Mrs. Barnes shrieked. James ran in the direction of the sound, shouting for her. Barbara screamed and sobbed. Steve and Becca stared at each other in shock for a long few seconds, then sprinted in the direction James went.

The two found Mrs. Barnes in her bedroom, clutching her stomach. Barbara was on the floor with tears streaming down her face. Becca began to calm her sister. Steve went towards James, who was frantically asking his ma what was wrong.

“It’s here! The baby! It’s time!” Mrs. Barnes managed to say in between deep breaths.

Steve’s eyes grew wide. James stuttered and fumbled around. He was seemingly dumbstruck, but did suggest they try to get to the hospital. His mother shook her head and told him they wouldn’t make it in him. Besides, she didn’t seem fit to walk.

God was on their side that day. A knock came from down the hall — at the front door.

Steve and James raced to it. James made it there first by a long shot. Steve didn’t really care because he knew who was behind the door even before James swung it open.

“ _Mrs. Rogers!_ ” Bucky shouted like it was a prayer.

“Why, I’m mighty happy to see you too, James,” Sarah said with a playful smile. James let out a relieved laugh. He grabbed her hand and urgently told her they needed to hurry. She went along with him when she realized he was being serious.

For the next few hours, Steve, James, Becca, and Barbara were all shut out of the bedroom. Mrs. Barnes made many noises that frightened them. James often yelled to see if every was fine, which Sarah always replied with a shaky confirmation. Steve chewed on his nails, James kept bouncing his leg, and Becca hugged Barbara tightly to her chest. The wait was tough, but worth it.

Beverly Sarah Barnes was born in an apartment while her father was out of town and her big brother’s friend’s mother was the one that made it go — to an extent — smoothly. When the children were finally let back into the bedroom of Mrs. Rogers, Winifred was holding her youngest daughter in her arms and had a tired smile on her lips. James got to hold her, then Becca, and then Steve. Beverly was beautiful. The Barnes kids all had deep blue eyes Steve loved, and Beverly had an innocent, youthful grin that Steve had never seen before. She giggled in Steve’s arms and wrapped her hand around his pointer finger.

“She likes you,” James told him confidently. Steve laughed.

Steve wanted this one day. A family.

▣▢▣▢▣

Sarah Rogers had tuberculosis. It wasn’t much of a surprise when the doctor said so. She seemed to have known the whole time. Steve didn’t know how to react to the news. He was quiet and unmoving. It wasn’t until the doctor left and Sarah was sleeping that he moved. He went straight to Bucky’s workplace.

Steve didn’t have a job, and Sarah had been in bed for days now. She can’t work. Rent money would be late this month, if at all. Bucky kept bringing food, which Steve always scolded at. But he ate it. God, he was always so hungry. The apartment was freezing and Steve lungs felt tight at night. Basically Steve Rogers was living what he’d been fearing for years.

He drew a lot. It was the only thing he felt he could do. Steve had drawn just about every nook cranny in his apartment, but he still did. Usually he drew whatever he saw outside the window, other times it was the dining table, and sometimes — whenever he thought he could manage to without getting caught — Bucky.

One night, he was drawing the front door. He liked drawing the coats on the hanger; one that’s Bucky’s, another that’s Sarah’s, and two for Steve. He enjoyed sketching out the shoes sitting on the dirt-filled welcome mat; his and Sarah’s pushed off to the side and Bucky’s boot right in the middle. There was also a ripper umbrella lying near the door, and a bag filled with things Bucky bought for Beverly’s birthday.

He didn’t get to finish the drawing, Sarah started coughing violently and Steve had to rush to her with a fresh glass of water. She thanked Steve over and over again, and hugged him. She told him that he’d be fine, in the end. She said he’d make it. He didn’t really know why until morning.

Bucky came in to see if Steve needed assistance. He’d been staying with them every night, taking turns with Steve on taking care of Sarah. Steve persistently told him to go home, but he didn’t know what he’d do if he had to eat every breakfast alone while his mother slept. Or if he had to sit in the living room alone as he drew, the only sound coming from the radio.

They usually both slept on the couch, which was somewhat difficult. They slept opposite from each other — their feet next to the other’s head. Steve kicked Bucky in the face more than once and Bucky’s feet were smelly and sweaty. Bucky even rolled of the couch and onto the floor in his sleep on the third night. The only upside was that the body heat was nice. Steve needed it with how cold it got in his apartment without the sun out. They slept perfectly that night. Steve didn’t have wild dreams and Bucky showered before bed. It was a good thing, too. Steve needed his strength in the day to follow.

Bucky awoke first. He was the one to gently rock Steve awake with red-rimmed eyes.

“What?” Steve croaked, eyes flashing with worry upon seeing his friend’s expression.

“You’d better see for yourself.”

The padded down the hall and into the bedroom. Bucky opened the door and let Steve in. He froze at what he saw.

Sarah Rogers was dead.

Her chest wasn’t rising and falling. Her eyes were open, but were not blinking. She was frozen, in temperature and movement alike.

_She was gone._

Steve fell to the ground and sobbed. Bucky sat down right next to him and hugging him. He cried too. They didn’t speak. They didn’t needed to. All they needed was to hold each other and grieve.

The funeral was small. Just Steve, the Barnes family, and a few former co-workers of Sarah. Steve didn’t cry during it, nor at the grave. He didn’t have the energy.

The night after, Bucky dragged the mattress from Steve’s bedroom onto the living room floor, as well as the couch cushions. Steve almost cried then. Instead, he was able to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for how depressing that was. But on a side note, it's very hard to call Bucky "James." I kept typing Bucky in the childhood scenes... Kudos or comment if you'd like. :)


End file.
